The Prototype
by notthetype
Summary: Movie prequel involving Grace's daughter and the origins of the Avatar Program. Abby was three when her father began to experiment with Na'vi DNA, fusing it with her own. To him she was a guinea pig, not a child. But at least it meant she could breathe...
1. Intro: The Girl in the Tank

**A/N: I'm a baaaaaaaad woman. I'm writing an intro chapter for a completely different fic at the moment, and am also on chapter 8 of yet another one. Oh dear! Anyways, 'saw Avatar last night, finally, and just had to write this. It's supposed to be a teaser intro, but if I pick it up, it might have to wait a good while… I sort of have my hands full. 'Fic would obviously be a prequel to the movie. (Am I being horrible for throwing this out there, considering I don't really have the time to write it at the moment? Maybe after the DVD is released.)**

**Disclaimer: I own squat.**

Spellman had shown him the tank once; tucked away in one of the older parts of the lab.

"She's never been used." He'd told him. "She was the first, created two years after her intended driver disappeared, and kept in stasis ever since."

"Disappeared?" Sully had noted the rather youthful appearance of the avatar; if she'd been human, he would have thought her a teenager. None of this had made sense. If the avatars were worth that much money, why create one without a driver, why create one so young?

"Abby Augustine. Grace's daughter. She grew up here, and… I presume it would be too much to expect for you to have heard of Dr _Graham_ Augustine?"

He'd simply glared at him, giving him his best intimidating Marine scowl.

"He was Grace's husband, involved in genetic research long before the Avatar Program took off. He was… unstable."

The young hybrid girl in the tank had given a twitch at this, as if there had been an actual conscious mind inside.

"He experimented on his own child, fused her body with some of the Na'vi's DNA from the time she was about three. Relations with the Na'vi were better then, Grace was teaching even without an avatar body; she was all caught up in her own research, or so I've been told, too much to know what was going on. All of this is off the record, of course, but people talk. As it turned out, the kid looked completely human, but could breathe out in the planet's atmosphere.

Grace apparently was furious when she found out, but knowing her, I don't think it lasted too long… too many possibilities. So, she took her with her, out there, to that school. Most of the in depth information about the Na'vi's culture and language apparently came through Abby. I suppose it's much easier to find a way in when you're just a child."

"How would you even know any of this, Norm, you were on the same damn ship as me coming here?"

"As I said, people talk."

"Then what happened?"

"Ah, yes, that is where people stop to talk."

_Well, that had been really helpful._

He'd given a derisive snort.

"She disappeared, Graham got killed, and Grace got obsessed with getting out there, understanding the workings of their society from the inside. She pushed the Avatar Program after that, created the prototype from her daughter's DNA, that's as much as I know."

"You mean she's looking for her? That's crazy, Norm. You and me, we've been out there; able to breath the air or not, a puny human body won't last a day on Pandora."

Spellman had simply shrugged.

---

So now here he was. Every single thing he'd done, had experience in the past three months, had been so far beyond the power of his own imagination, the sheer overwhelming intensity of it all still stole his breath from time to time. And yet, everything felt so right, so real, more so than his previous life ever had. And if he had to lay it all down for this, if it was his time to go, this time go all the way, not just one half of him, then he would. And in all the pig-headed determination, in that desperate, foolish, and ultimately glorious moment he had made the bond with the Taruk, in all the moments before then, when the magnitude of the world around him had truly hit home, when the incomprehensibility of this place had made him take a step back and just marvel at it all, he hadn't felt off his game once, the way he now did. For there right beside him, atop a large Ikran, standing behind a fully armed warrior, her knees pressed into his sides to keep her balance, was a woman, a human woman, her hair, the color of dark honey, flowing out behind her in the wind. There was no braid; there was also no oxygen mask.


	2. She Was

**A/N: OK, so apparently I lied, I didn't realise it at the time, but it seems that this will not wait until the DVD is released… so three stories on the go… oh crap!**

**Note on language: Words spoken in the language of the Na'vi are in bold, I didn't specify that Abby is fluent, because I think it's pretty obvious from the context.**

'**Scrat' is a word I made up to be a derogatory reference to sky people. I've only seen the movie once, so I don't know if that sort of word already exists.**

**I haven't made the Na'vi quite as nice as they are in the movie, I find it a little doubtful that there aren't any less than perfect characters among them. (I think the movie was too packed to allow for too much character diversity, so it's not really a criticism.)**

**There is an indirect reference to sexual child abuse in this, I didn't think it exceeds the rating T, but if it makes anyone uncomfortable, let me know.**

**Disclaimer: I own my OCs, nothing else.**

She was three when he began. She had no coherent memories of it, of course, but there were flashes of images, of sensations, of needles and tubes, of giant machines whirring like angry beasts, while she lay in their bellies, paralysed. There had been frantically whispered instructions: don't tell, be a good girl.

Not until she was much older did she understand that things could have been worse; not all little girls woken in the middle of the night had to merely contend with a few injections and scans. But then again, she supposed the reasoning behind it was the same: She was her father's property, in his eyes, she was merely an object to further his own goals; to him, she was a world of possibilities, so much more than a child, and yet infinitely less.

She was seven when she found out that she was not like the handful of other children on the base. There were four of them in total, but none were close to her own age… too dangerous to bring them out here so young. She had been playing, alone as usual, had tossed her ball too far, too close to an air lock just off her father's secondary lab; no crowned little frog to bring it back, so she had run after it, overeager, had hit the release button on the air lock by accident when she'd careened into the wall, had stood there, trembling, while around her the sirens had blared, lab assistants had scrambled for oxygen masks, phials and portable computer screens had crashed to the floor in their haste… and she had stood, forgotten, right by the open lock, the warm breath of Pandora stroking her face,… and she had breathed.

She was still seven when she realised that now her mother loved her more. There had been shouting and name calling, exclamations of: "How could you? She is your daughter, not a lab rat!" But at the end of the day, her mother was not as different from her father as she would like to believe. Both of them had built a life around knowledge… about obtaining it, about controlling it; and she could not remember Grace ever looking at her with that complete adoration in her eyes she reserved for newly discovered forms of plant-life, new carving techniques associated with the Na'vi; not before that day at the air lock, at least.

She was eight the first time her mother brought her to the school. There had been a long lecture on safety. Good little girls don't stray from the path. Good little girls still have bones as brittle as twigs, no matter what air they breathe. Good little girls…. But she had not heard the rest of it. As the chopper descended, then touched ground, all words were taken from Abby's mind, and only images remained. She kept nodding and smiling at her mother, but only caught the final sentence:

"… and if any of those kids is really horrible to you, just sock him one." Grace had laughed. She was only eight, too young to understand that, of course, her mother had been joking.

She was nine when Neytiri had placed a braided cord holding a pale green stone around her upper arm… it had been a bracelet, but that was of little consequence… and had told her: "**I see you, now your heart and mine are the same, we are friends**." Abby's chest had felt as if it could not possibly contain her joy. She had felt as if her feet could not keep touching the ground, as if life had fallen into place, and all it had taken was that little piece of string.

Three days later, Neytiri, Tsu'tey, and Ni'ran had snuck her out during recess for the first time. Neytiri had carried her strapped to her back like an infant, had kept her safe. Tsu'tey had ranted on and on about tests of bravery he'd already completed in his journey to becoming a warrior, but Abby had not minded, her eyes had been too full to allow her ears to find reason for complaint.

When she was eleven she'd slipped off a branch and had broken three bones. Neytiri had cried and Grace had screeched like a harpy when they'd brought her back to the school, giving all the children of the Omaticaya a long speech about how Abby was not like them, was not strong or nimble, was not able to go and play their kinds of games with them. Abby had sat, the injected calcium compound already at work in her bloodstream, and had cried from the pain… not in her bones, but in her heart. She was eleven when she decided that it would not be her bones that made her strong, but her will.

She was twelve when Eytucun sent out Ikran riders to confer with other clan leaders on the possibility of sending some of their children to Grace's school. Eytucun was wise; if the sky people were here to stay, the People must learn their ways.

And many came. Grace was overjoyed at the prospect of studying the anthropological peculiarities of a variety of tribes; it was like Eytucun had given her a present.

Abby wasn't so sure.

There were many sneers and puzzled expressions as first one, then another newcomer would approach her, bend down, finger her hair, sniff it, quite possibly lick it, and then wander off, unimpressed. One girl, possibly a little younger than Abby, but definitely twice her size, had even poked her large pinkie in her nose and had turned to one of the others:

"**How does it breathe**?"

Dark blue digit still in her nose, Abby had glared up and announced: "**I'm not an it, I'm a she; and I breathe through my nose, so take your damn finger out of it**." The girl had taken a startled step back and declared:

"**It talks**."

Abby had bared her teeth and hissed. The girl had slunk off back to her friends after that.

"**They will learn**." Neytiri had tried to reassure her.

Three days later _he_ had arrived, and things only got worse.

Ta'laht was the heir of one of the largest Ikran rider tribes on Pandora, he'd completed his warrior training before any of the other boys of his age, he was unusually tall, even by Na'vi standards, and he was the most arrogant, conceited, and pompous idiot Abbey had ever met.

On their first meeting, he's bent down towards her, had sniffed briefly, then scowled as if she smelled bad, and had told the entire room:

"**I'm not staying. My father says the Scrats are dangerous… learn what you can, so one day you will know how to defeat them. I have not come to share air with them**." With that, he had turned on his heel and had left. He'd held enough sway to make a further fourteen students follow him. Grace had almost cried.

It was a full two weeks until Eytucun had managed to convince Ta'laht's father to send him back.

He'd marched back into the classroom as if he expected the rest of them to bow down in the face of the great honour he was doing them. Abby didn't get out of his way fast enough, and one huge blue hand landed on her back and shoved her so hard she collided with a table. She hissed loudly, but he ignored her.

Hands still braced against the surface of the table, Abby gave him her best low growl, then dragged the whole piece of furniture towards him. He'd stopped in sheer surprise, so she had enough time to position it in front of him, clime atop, and take aim. She still had to aim upwards, even as she was standing on the table; but he was simply staring at her, eyes wide, brow a little furrowed in confusion, as she pulled her fist back as far as her ear, took a deep breath, and put her entire weight, puny as it was, into a punch that landed neatly on his chin.

_There, she'd socked him one._

**A/N: Reviews are the only reward I get for this.**__** (but you can tell me if it sucks too)**


	3. On Chivalry

**A/N: I've taken some liberties with the Na'vi's approach to mating here; I hope nobody is offended by this, but I just can't imagine a people like them to be all prude and stuff. **

**Furthermore, I've given the human complex a different administrator, figuring that Parker Selfridge would have been too young to hold his job at that point. I find Quaritch to be an interesting character, and have never been a fan of having truly bad baddies… so…**

**I will age Abby in the next few chapters, just so you know; she's only 12 for a little bit longer.**

**Also, I'm sick at the moment, and on some heavy meds, so if any of this sounds crazy, then ahm, …yea, not a lot of planning involved, I hope I won't get stuck with mad plotlines I never intended to put out there.**

**Disclaimer: I own squat. Just my OCs.**

She was sitting, her head bent low, studying her clasped hands intently. She was bandaged in a number of places, but the significant amount of painkillers and regenerative accelerators currently coursing through her system left her numb and somewhat disorientated, feeling mostly light-headed and dizzy.

Not that it mattered. She'd been taken to see Mr Hamstead, the administrator, in order to 'answer a few questions' about her attack. But as it turned out, she wasn't required to talk at all, she was merely 'Exhibit A', as her mother and Colonel Quaritch engaged in a shouting match, not even pretending to listen to Hamstead's interjections of:

"Now, now, can we just calm down and discuss this in a more civilised…" and "Doctor, Colonel, please…" He was barely able to make himself heard over the din.

"This just proves my point, they're nothing but savages… look at her, … and she's your own daughter…." Quaritch certainly had the advantage where volume was concerned.

"They are just children…" Her mother threw back; Abby wondered briefly how many women would be this passionate in the defence of someone who'd rendered their own child in the state she'd been in when Neytiri, Ni'ran and Tsu'tey had finally managed to pull Ta'laht off her.

The Na'vi had no concept of chivalry, no distinct difference in the treatment of men and women, no inherent superiority of one gender over another; Abby knew this, found the human ideology, still so deeply rooted in some of the men, the need to protect the women, as if they were somehow lacking as warriors, much more disturbing. She'd hit first, and she'd been stupid and angry, and had chosen her opponent without thinking; of course he'd hit back, and bit back, and head-butted her… she'd managed to bite his arm, and land a pretty solid kick to his nethers, at that point still on the table, and well, that had just pissed him off.

So, it wasn't that she didn't agree with her mother as she pointed out all the arguments as to why this had not been a vicious attack, she just wished, irrationally, childishly, that Grace did not always have to be so objective, that only once, she could simply take her side, no matter how ignorant that might be; that she would simply hug her, in that cheesy motherly way she'd read about in books, and would tell her everything would be alright.

Abby snorted at that thought; who was she kidding?

The battle raging in front of her came to a sudden halt, as both Quaritch and her mother turned to stare at her:

"Somethin' funny, little one?" The Colonel eyed her with an odd expression, and she supposed having a heavily bandage twelve year old snort in amusement while he was eating the face off said child's mother didn't really happen to him that often. All sorts of explanations swam through Abby's mind; but she decided to do Grace a favour and try and lighten the situation a bit by playing with the Colonel:

"'Just thinking of the face that blue idiot made when I punched him, you should have seen it,… priceless."

Quaritch seemed to be unable to help himself, and gave her a loud bark of a laugh. "That's the spirit… you come see me any time you want and I get my boys to show you a few tricks, you hear me?" He seemed not too perturbed that his argument had effectively just run out of steam. But knowing him, Abby surmised that it wouldn't take him too long to find another incident to set him off again… there were always plenty of incidents.

"'Will do, Sir." She told him, and meant it… couldn't hurt to get a few pointers, after all, she had a huge bite mark on her inner thigh… it hurt like hell, and she had no idea how Ta'laht had even managed to get there; she could definitely use a few tricks.

---

To Grace's great displeasure, security was stepped up after that. The two marines posted as basic protection, one at the back of the class, and one at the front, had been no use in the fight, as they'd known the children too well to even contemplate firing into their midst. Quaritch had replaced them with eight of his 'finest', who were under strict instruction not to fraternise with 'the enemy', and while the other two had been mostly in basic camouflage cargos and a T-shirt, the only high tech equipment being their exo-packs and masks, the new guys were fully suited up.

Grace gave her little speech about Abby again, about how frail she was, and how she could not be treated like the other children, only this time she was greeted by more than sheepish looks and sympathetic smiles. Some of the new kids, Ta'laht included, grinned at her in the most infuriatingly self-satisfied manner, shaking their heads as if to indicate that they'd been right all along, that she had no place there among them, breathing their air.

Ta'laht even managed to take things a step further, when he approached Neytiri who was in the process of braiding Abby's hair during one of their free periods and leaned over her with a rather smug little smile, his eyes travelling Neytiri's body as if he was appraising a new Pa'li he contemplated adding to his collection. Abbey had seen that look before, Neytiri was older than her, on the cusp of womanhood, and many of the young males were eying her like that, never this openly though, never with such complete confidence, since Tsu'tey's claim on her would not be challenged by anyone in his own clan.

"**Come, take a little walk with me**." His invitation could not be plainer. Abby was only twelve, but she knew enough, knew that while the Na'vi mated for life, there were all sorts of things that were not strictly speaking considered to be mating, and hence were not included in that only-once-in-a-lifetime deal.

Neytiri just gave a derisive snort.

"**Not if the leaves turn grey and the banshees descend to feast on all the wealth of Eywa**." She told him, without lifting her eyes form Abby's hair.

He simply laughed at that, his confidence not even suffering a scratch, as he placed one big hand atop Abby's head and rubbed just the tiniest bit too hard, not only messing up all of Neytiri's work, but also hurting Abby a little in the process. As he walked away, he called over his shoulder:

"**And I was going to be nice to your little useless pet, and all**."

And it stuck.

Now she was Neytiri's 'pet'.

And what was worse, Ta'laht took special care to annoy her, to taunt her, to hurt her when the guards were not paying enough attention. And all of this was done with a sly little wink at Neytiri who did her best to get a few punches in edgeways in defence of her friend. Abby herself, bit, scratched and hissed so much at the pompous idiot, she felt exhausted just thinking about him.

"**Maybe I should just take a walk with him, give him what he wants**." Neytiri sounded exhausted too.

"**Have you lost your mind… no, you can't give in to that sort of thing… I'm fine, really, I am… he's just using me to…**" Abby felt on the brink of tears, this would not be happening if only she were stronger, if Neytiri could just challenge him to a fight without having to worry that he'd take it out on Abby instead.

"**It's no big deal… I've done it many times before… it's just a favour**." Abby felt like a large snake was coiled in her stomach, twisting and turning, twitching incessantly.

She knew this too: The Na'vi were not precious about such things, a little 'favour' here or there meant very little, but this was not about that, this was a matter of principle. If she wanted to keep Neytiri from giving in to that jerk just for the sake of getting some peace, then she had to do something drastic. Perhaps Colonel Quaritch and his bag of offered tricks would come in handy.

**A/N: Reviews are welcome.**


	4. Debt

**A/N: Right, so here's Chapter 4. It might not be what you were expecting, but I'm rather pleased, since I was in 'a bit of a pickle' as to where to go after the last bit.**

**A massive THANK YOU to Sky66, whose rather specific ideas of what should happen next, gave me the idea for this. I know you wanted Abby to do the hurting and almost killing… but this is what my brain came up with instead. I think it'll do nicely. ;)**

Somehow she managed to keep Neytiri from crumbling under the constant pressure of Ta'laht's attentions. She mostly did this by pretending that nothing had happened whenever he shoved her, insulted her, or played one of his little tricks on her… which wasn't exactly an easy thing to accomplish, since Ta'laht was ever mindful to have Neytiri's full attention whenever he bullied Abby.

But with a constant smile on her face, both to reassure her friend as well as to irritate that jerk, and the steadily increasing knowledge of just where to hit a guy so it would really hurt, she made it as far as three months post first proposition.

Quaritch and his 'boys' had been of immeasurable help, if not in getting her any real results as of yet, then at least in boosting her confidence.

Even though he'd offered, the Colonel had looked somewhat taken aback when she'd turned up for his hand to hand combat training in her blue sweat pants and that silly T-shirt her aunt Gloria had sent her from Earth. It said 'Born to be Wild', and Grace had thought that was funny.

"What' up, dwarf?" Jack, one of the original two guards at the school, and someone she almost considered a friend, had given her a quizzical once over as the Colonel had made his way towards them.

"Joining in." She'd stated simply.

"Are ya now?" Quaritch had boomed, looking down at her with his most intimidating scowl. Abby had had to fight the impulse to laugh at him. The man was merely twice her size, as were the rest of the marines, if they thought they had a monkey's butt's chance of intimidating her, they had to think again. While managing not to laugh, and to stand to formal attention just like Jack had taught her, Abby couldn't hide a massive grin. Quaritch had just looked stern for another moment, then had given one of his loud laughs and had said: "Well, I guess you are then."

---

She'd been in so much pain the following morning, she'd thought Ta'laht had beaten her up all over again. Fortunately, that thought had got her out of bed and moving.

Jack had told her afterwards that Quaritch hadn't really expected her to keep up, that he'd been dead impressed with her, and that the other guys had been just a little freaked out.

"'S not normal for a little girl." He'd said. And it had occurred to Abby that perhaps it wasn't just the breathing after all; perhaps she'd been affected in more ways than one by her father's little experiments.

Somehow that thought was no longer as disturbing as it once would have been.

The marines stopped being freaked out and began to be amused when she managed to flip the Colonel on his back and press her knee to his throat during one of their practice sessions. So, with very little difficulty, she'd become the unit's mascot of sorts, known to all the men simply as 'Eep'… for the noise she'd made the first time she'd been flung over a marine's shoulder in a particularly tricky move known as the Q12, one of Quaritch's own inventions.

She wasn't too sure she liked it,… not exactly the most fear inspiring nickname, that.

But in the end, what counted was what they taught her, and that was plenty. She was not naïve enough to believe that any of it would really make a difference if she was going up against a 12 foot tall, almost fully grown male Na'vi, but at least it would prevent her form looking like a fool, and quite possibly give her a chance to inflict some serious pain before he knocked her out.

She found out just how useful her training had been a little sooner than she would have liked.

On rare occasions some women of the Omaticaya visited the school, driven more by curiosity than any real concern for their children, they could look out for themselves, and really, what harm could only a hand full of sky people, small like children, and frail like insects, possibly do?

As Grace was completely engrossed in attempting rather one-sided conversations with some of the women, who just laughed occasionally at the sheer oddness of one of these creatures speaking in works more broken than last years fallen leaves, Neytiri and Abby managed to make a break for the forest.

In hindsight, it was foolish to leave in a group so small. The young were under orders to seek safety in numbers, but the pull of all that green and the need to escape Ta'laht's ever watchful eyes, had become too strong.

And so they simply took off, Neytiri running gracefully and slowly, while Abby was pumping her little legs to keep up with her friend.

They broke into a clearing, silently laughing so as not to disturb their surroundings with what could at times be loud shrieks of giggles.

Neytiri raised her arms and held them wide, palms to the sky, face turned upwards. Abby knelt beside her, catching her breath, and closed her eyes for a moment to allow the quiet to sink in.

"**Little pet, it is dangerous for one so brittle out here, didn't your mother tell you**?"

Both girls gave a little start. He'd snuck up on them without a sound, and was now crouching on one of the low branches at the edge of the clearing.

Neytiri hissed sharply and bared her teeth.

"**What do you want?**"

Ta'laht simply threw his head back and laughed in derision.

"**What do I want? Oh, Neytiri, daughter of Mo'at, you know very well what I want… now, send your little pet away**."

"**No**," she shook her head with finality "**too dangerous for her on her own**."

"**Very well, she can watch**." With this he dropped off the branch, landing in a low crouch without making a sound as his feet touched the forest floor; standing, he strode towards them, leisurely, slowly, cruelly stretching the moment.

A growl built low in Abby's chest, making its way upwards and into her mouth, she was shaking with rage. She stepped forward and towards him, but he merely petted her on the head in passing. She snapped at his fingers, but he withdrew them too quickly.

"**No,… bad pet**." He threw over his shoulder, but he had already forgotten about her as his eyes focused intently on Neytiri.

The older girl now growled in turn and made a lunge for him, but he simply used her momentum to swing her around and slam her back into a tree, pressing himself close, he too growled, the sound, however, was entirely different from the girls' earlier expressions of anger.

Abby noted the look of exasperated compliance on her friends face, Neytiri was ready to give in; and Abby snapped.

She took a running start at Ta'laht's back and managed to latch on, her arms around his neck, her legs tightly wrapped around his narrow waist, she attached herself to him like a monkey. She lifted herself high enough to lean forward and get her head level with the side of his face, she caught his ear between her teeth, and she bit, hard.

A loud cry, more outrage than pain, issued from him as she turned and grabbed her with his impossibly long arms; in sheer rage he threw her clear over his head and a good few meters into the clearing, where she landed on the soft forest floor with a muffled thud. Winded, she took a moment to regain her senses, and when she did so, she sat up, hoping that her eyes would tell him just how wrong his move had been; she was truly mad now, ready to do just about anything to hurt him.

As she looked at him, standing a few steps in front of Neytiri, however, she noticed that both of them had frozen and were staring at something behind her. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and then she heard it, that singular low hissing growl, drawn out and almost languid, anticipation at its core.

Before she even had a chance to turn, or run, or scream, Ta'laht had leaped clear over her head, while Neytiri rushed forward to grab Abby and drag her in the opposite direction. Her feet complied entirely without her brain's cooperation, as Neytiri shoved her beneath the thick roots of a large Tsyorina'wll and whispered:

"**Stay here**."

Before she could run off, Abby grabbed her arm and asked, her voice shaking with shock:

"**Why would he do that? Why would he face a Palulukan for me, he hates me**."

"**He's a warrior**." Neytiri's answer was so simple, yet so very confusing in its complexity.

Shaking off Abby's arm, Neytiri turned, and with a few long strides disappeared from her field of vision.

Abby was left behind, cowering and fighting tears, like some…, like some… useless pet.

_No… no, no, no._

She could hear the Palulukan's screeching roar; she could hear Ta'laht and Neytiri calling to each other, as they attempted to hold it off. And then she could hear one loud cry of pain, deep, angry, and defiant… not Neytiri's.

The rage at her own helplessness, the contempt at having been left to hide like she was of no consequence, like the frail little thing her mother kept insisting that she was, made her vision blur, and her anger enveloped her like a film of red liquid. Before she could even contemplate her own foolishness, he was outside her cage of tangled roots, running for the clearing. She reached it moments later, only to see Neytiri, crouching over an injured Ta'laht, while the Palulukan was closing in, torturous in its slowness.

Quickly scanning her surroundings, once again ignoring the rather loud voice in her head that insisted she was being a complete imbecile, Abby picked up a large rock, spoke quietly, so as not to alert the beast just yet: "**Eywa, if it is my time, take me to you, make me one, make me part of all**", and then hurled the rock at the Palulukan with all the force her thin arm could muster.

To her delight, and absolute horror, her plan seemed to work, as the large predator gave a loud snort, then turned in the direction of its assailant.

The Na'vi had a number of curses, none of them seemed appropriate at this moment, so Abby went with what she had picked up from the marines:

"Come her, you mother-fucking piece of shit, so I can cut off your balls and shove them up your ass!" And then she ran, hoping almost against hope that she'd make it to the narrow rock overhang she'd noticed a moment earlier, where a bolder was partially sticking out from the ground, leaving just enough room for her to squeeze in. She executed on of Quartich's roll and slide manoeuvres, and hit the far end of the hollow just a little too hard, making black spots dance before her eyes.

The Palulukan was already there, clawing at the narrow gap, Abby beyond the reach of its massive claw by the width of a thought.

She flattened herself against the back of the gap where the rock met the ground, and tried to see past the animal's bulk, see if the others had managed to escape. She caught a glimpse of blue, and noted that they had not moved. Neytiri appeared to be dragging on Ta'laht's arm, but the young man must have been too severely injured to provide her with any assistance in shifting his substantial form.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Abby was sure that Grace would not approve of the vocabulary she had imbibed with the hand-to-hand combat skills.

As she scrambled further into the hollow, the Palulukan, now becoming irate at the little morsel just beyond its reach, was loosening giant lumps of earth with its claws, making the opening wider, her hand fell on something long and slender.

A small branch, no more than a meter in length, but broken at an angle, and ending in a sharp point, lay just beneath her.

Contemplating her mortality for only a moment, she grasped the branch, held it just the way the marines had shown her to hold a baton, and stabbed at the descending limb. The Palulukan gave a roar, momentarily made to pause by the pain, and Abby used the opportunity to aim higher, and plunged the improvised spear into the beast's left eye. "**Eywa, let it maim, not kill**." She prayed, as the Palulukan gave a deafening rear and pulled away from the hollow. Giving another growl, and pawing at it's injured eye, it turned and vanished into the undergrowth with one masterful extension of its massive body.

Abby lay panting, the pain in her shoulder and arms only registering slowly, the dark blue blood on her hands warm and sticky.

She crawled from the narrow cavern, and almost stumbled towards Neytiri and Ta'laht, sinking to her knees beside them. Neytiri, still frozen in her protective crouch was staring at her; Ta'laht, who looked half unconscious but had managed to keep his eyes open, was looking at her with sheer wonder, but the note of resentful obligation mixed in with the impression did not escape Abby. The Na'vi took life debt very seriously, and after they had managed to drag Ta'laht all the way to Mo'at, to heal his wounds and pray with Abby for the pain she had caused one of Eywa's creatures, he performed the proper rite, and swore his oath, just as Neytiri did. Her friend smiled, pride and admiration in every plane of her face, but Ta'laht looked indignant, as if his oath somehow demeaned him.

When she placed her hand on his bowed head, low enough for her to reach, to accept his works, he looked up defiantly and told her:

"**This does not mean I like you, pet. I am sworn to protect you until the day I've repaid my debt, I am a warrior of honour, but you are still only a Scrat**."

She simply smiled at him, letting the slightest note of superiority colour her eyes; and he sneered.

**A/N: I'm in some serious need of cheering up at the moment, so reviews would be really nice. **

**A note on language:**

**The little line Abby says before she hurls the rock at the Palulukan is my version of "It is a good day to die."… I went with the whole Native American angle.**

**The other prayers to Eywa are in line with the idea that the Palulukan only acts in accordance with its nature; it does not deserve to die for this.**


	5. Change

**A/N: First off, a big thank you for the reviews!**

**As promised, Abby is older in this chapter, and I know some of you have been wondering about possible pairings… so go wild guessing. ;p**

**I've made up a words for this:**

**rei'ya = fertile, or the time of a girl's coming of age physically.**

**I've also given unobranium an official name: X2387, because, I'm sorry to say, I think 'unobtainium' is just stupid. (hardtogetium, weneedmoreium, iwantsomeium…. pffft)**

**The slightly obscure literary reference is 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'.**

**Disclaimer: I own only my OCs.**

She headed for the edge at full tilt, threw herself into the air with a loud shriek of laughter, and revelled in the glorious feeling of weightlessness as her stomach gave that familiar flip that came with throwing yourself off a cliff.

She hit the water still laughing.

Neytiri and Tsu'tey were already there, laughing too, treading the water as they watched Ni'ran fling herself over the edge above them. She impacted just behind Abby, causing the resulting wave to wash over her.

She spluttered slightly, then spat out the water she'd almost swallowed and followed the other three to the edge of the large forest pool.

Collapsing on a flat rock with a sigh, she spread her limbs towards the sky and smiled contentedly.

When she heard a large wet body flop down beside her and glanced over, squinting in the bright light of the for once unobscured light of the sun, Neytiri was smiling back at her.

"**Teacher would not like it if she knew**." Her friend informed her with a devious little grin.

"**Fortunately, **_**Teacher**_** is too preoccupied to bother with such things. I don't even remember the last time she asked me where I've been**."

Abby felt no hurt at Grace's lack of concern, she was older now, had been out in the forest enough to know her way around. And the fact that the mining company had drastically increased operations meant that Grace had her hands full with inter-species diplomacy and teaching. She was now instructing the Na'vi in the language and culture of the sky people, and instructing the sky people how not to set a foot wrong with every step they took. For Abby's liking, Grace was wonderfully distracted.

With a contented sigh, she rolled over, only to glimpse a large crouching figure up on the cliff, watching them.

_Of course. Where else would he be?_

It had been three and a half years since the incident with the Palulukan, and Ta'laht still had to repay his debt.

Neytiri had fulfilled hers a year ago, when a crazed banshee had almost taken a bite out of Abby's head. Neytiri was a full warrior now, her Ikran Seze roosting in the branches of the Hometree as proof. Neytiri and Seze had made short work of the banshee, driving it off without too much difficulty. And so Neytiri had returned her oath, and Abby had taken it back with a smiling face.

Ta'laht, who'd been on an Ikran hunt with other young men from his own tribe, had been furious. Abby had known he had a temper, of course, but the tantrum he'd thrown, had still been spectacular. His anger and frustration at having missed his chance of escaping this burden of an obligation had made Abby smile with wicked glee.

Neytiri would have done what she did regardless, obligation or not, but Ta'laht, would have happily watched the banshee munch its way all the way to her toes, if he'd been allowed any say in it.

Abby could not help a heavy sigh from escaping her lips, as the figure on the cliff retreated slightly. He was always there, now; watching, waiting, following her around like a shadow. He'd only leave her at the perimeters of the compound, or the edges of the airfield, depending on how she chose to return to the mining and research facility.

He barely spoke to her, the occasional grumbled insult being the exception, and he'd perfected the art of 'unintentionally' pushing or shoving her, hard enough to hurt, but light enough to keep her standing on her feet. He'd made damn sure that, if this obligation was a burden to him, then it would be one to her too.

She rolled on her back once more, limbs spread eagle, and groaned in exasperation.

"**What? Is he here?**" Ni'ran looked borderline excited.

Na'vi were odd, Abby decided: while Neytiri was intended for Tsu'tey, he had a massive thing for Ni'ran, who in turn was a really sick puppy and crushing on Ta'laht, who had a thing for Neytiri.

_Happy days!_

On second thought, she did remember reading something similar in human literature, it even had blue people and everything. Abby also remembered that Grace had given her a long lecture about hormones and puberty when she'd become '**rei'ya**' as the Na'vi called it, fertile. There had been some mention of confusion and strong urges, but mostly Abby hadn't really paid too much attention, she was the only human her age on the moon, and wasn't really concerned with things like 'what to do when a boy likes you' and 'how to say _no_'.

"**You have problems**." She told Ni'ran.

"**Oh, I know**." The young woman just smiled happily.

Tsu'tey made a little growly noise in the back of his throat, and Neytiri sneered.

---

Abby was on her way to the primary research lab, some books under her arm and a pad in her hand, making her way past the hanger, when she noticed that, once again, Quaritch's 'boys' had magically multiplied. The army presence on the base was now almost one in seven.

"What are they, amoebas?" She muttered.

Reaching the lab where her father was leaning over a microscope, muttering away to himself, she placed the pad on the desk beside him and noted curtly:

"Mom wants me to give this to you."

"Ah, Abby, do you have a moment, I just wanted to check your…"

"No."

Not giving him a chance to say anything else, she marched out of the lab. Her parents were not on speaking terms, so she barely saw her father. He'd undergone some treatment after his set of experiments was uncovered, but ultimately, crazy or not, he was too valuable to the company to lock up or send home. While his genetic research held little leverage with the company, his expertise on mineral compounds did. He'd devised several chemicals that aided in the mining of X2387, commonly known as unobtainium, and therefore was helping them make money; in the end, that was all that mattered.

Abby's feelings about what he had done to her were a complicated mix of hate and shameful gratitude. She loved her life, loved her friends, and knew she would have neither if it had not been for her father, but the images that still haunted her nightmares, flashes of cold steel, the lingering burning pain, the feeling of complete vulnerability and helplessness, made her blood boil with rage and disgust for the man.

She noticed that her steps fell a little too heavily in her anger, and made a conscious effort to calm herself, treading lightly and evenly, the way Neytiri had taught her. The resulting sway of her hips made a group of to her as yet unfamiliar marines turn, and one of them whistle. Abby shook her head, then turned and gave him a wicked grin:

"Nice jail-bait, huh?" She stroked the side of her ass just for good measure, then turned and walked away. She had no real comprehension of mating, no interest in it, so she was always careful to nip any presumptuous behaviour of the young marines in the butt. She was tall for her age, almost 5'9" and still growing, she was also slender, with enough curves to look older than she was… all of this, of course, only held true form a human perspective; to the Na'vi she looked tiny and plump, and everything on her was the wrong colour.

Passing the cafeteria, she caught part of the Colonel's standard welcome briefing addressed to yet another group of newly arrived recruits. Something about death lurking around every corner out there, and blah, blah, blah.

_If only that was all that was lurking out there. _

Abby felt a little wistful at the thought.

Moving further along the corridor, she could hear raised voices coming form the administration section of the compound, distinguishing Grace's voice, she snuck closer.

"… I simply won't allow it… it's not right!" Her mother was shouting.

"We've made promises, treaties,… you cannot simply break them like that."

"Please, doctor, don't make a mountain out of a molehill, it is a tiny sliver of expansion, barely noteworthy. If we extend the mining operation a mere 40 metres in all directions, we'll increase productivity by 20%, the natives won't even notice."

Hamstead's voice had that eerily calm quality to it, the one that spoke of patronising superiority; he was treating Grace like a stupid child. The idea that the Na'vi wouldn't notice the disappearance of large sections of the forest around the compound was ridiculous… and the idea of the forest disappearing in itself was just downright disturbing. Was this the reason why the extra muscle had been brought in, were they going to expand… and expand… and expand?

---

She'd never gone into the forest alone, had never made her way to the Hometree on her own, had never been this aware of her blunt teeth, her weak limbs, her fragile skin and bones, as she climbed roots, dodged plants, kept her breathing even and muffled her footfall.

_It doesn't matter, I have to warn them._

It had been a week since she'd overheard the argument in Hamstead's office; it had taken a week until she had found an opportunity to slip away, the school being closed as a safety measure should there be any reaction to the expansion. Of course the Na'vi had been told it was called a 'holiday'.

It had been two days since the heavy diggers had begun, almost tentatively, to clear tiny sections of forest, moving in circles, growing wider like the ripples in a pond.

She ran into him first.

_Of course._

He gave a small start as she stepped out from behind a fern, right into his field of vision. Clearly he was standing guard, positioned about a mile from the Hometree as he was; even visiting warriors had to do their share of the chores.

"**By Eywa's bounty, what are you doing here? Did you get here on your own? Do you even realise that if you die before I fulfil my oath, I will have to bear that stain on my honour for the rest of my life?**" Ta'laht's voice had gotten steadily louder, his hands were clenching and there was sheer rage in his eyes.

"**Why thank you for your concern, how nice that you're thinking of yourself for a change?" **The Na'vi did not have much of a propensity for sarcasm, so he simply growled at her. She couldn't resist another little barb:

"**You are a mighty warrior indeed, jumping the way you did when I showed up, I can see the Omaticaya can rest easy tonight with a sentinel like you**."

This one earned her a much louder growl and a shove, but she laughed it off; he couldn't hit her, couldn't bite her, couldn't even shove her hard enough to really hurt her anymore.

"**I was keeping my eye out for large fanged things, not useless fat pets**." He practically spat at her.

She just huffed and made her way past him. He growled once again, quietly and to himself this time, and then she heard the swish of his tail and the rustle of leaves just above her. He was going to follow her the last bit of the way.

"**I've made it eight miles, I think I can manage the one between here and the Hometree.**"

There was no reply; she could just barely make out a dark shape crouching above her, waiting patiently.

"Stubborn son of a bitch!" She sighed in exasperation and continued on her way, the shape following in the branches above.

When she reached the large clearing, the majestic tree right in front of her, Ta'laht dropped to the ground beside her.

"**So, what is it you want, pet? Why come all this way, night is about to fall, you won't make it back before sundown**." He looked marginally pleased, whether by the idea that she would undoubtedly get herself into trouble on her way back… a pack of Nantangs perhaps… from which he'd have to rescue her, or merely at the idea of her getting into trouble,… a pack of Nantangs perhaps, tearing her limb from limb… she couldn't tell, but from the small smile on his lips, she deduced that it was the latter.

"**I need to speak to Eytucun**." She told him simply, as she stepped out into the open, taking determined strides towards the Na'vi's home.

Ta'laht gave a derisive laugh behind her.

"**There is a tribes meeting in progress, and I doubt you would be welcome. They are discussing you Scrats**."

"**That's why I'm here**." She told him, speeding up, just so she would not have to listen to anymore of his words.

She reached the large opening in time to catch the angry voice of a man, tall and imposing looking, the elaborate headdress of a clan leader indicating his status, as it rose to an angry peak on the words:

"**We have waited long enough, Eytucun. You are foolish not to have acted sooner; they show no respect for us or themselves by not honouring their word**."

Abby stepped lightly through the crowd of Omaticaya, reaching the front and entered the circle.

"**They are planning to expand further into the forest, they…**" There was a loud roar from the angry clan leader as he charged her, stopping merely a few inches in front of Abby, making her wince.

"**How dare you raise your voice in a meeting of elders, Scrat! How dare you speak at all… you are not Omaticaya, you are not of any clan. You are an indulged pet and nothing more, my son has told me about you**."

"**Mana'ey, there is no need…**" Mo'at began, but the man she addressed would not let her finish.

"**Is this why you are weak? Because you keep silly little pets? Because you do not take the sky people seriously? They are puny and frail, but they are growing in number, bringing more of their cold beasts with them. What will it take for you to heed my warnings?**" He was still pacing in front of Abby, then gave her a hard shove which made her stumble backwards into the crowd, where two slender arms caught her. Looking up, she saw Neytiri's face, frowning with concern. Abby felt jittery, ready to cry, but Mana'ey was not finished with her yet.

"**You think that breathing makes you one of us? You have no saheylu, you are no different from the rest of them, you are alone in your own mind**." He shook his braid at her, just in case she had not understood already, then turned back to Eytucun.

No-one spoke for her, no one told her that it wasn't true; Neytiri stroked her shoulders reassuringly, by said nothing. Abby was fighting tears.

Before Mana'ey could continue his argument about the sky people, a wailing sound began at the back of the crowd, began to grow and spread like a wave, until she could hear it being taken up in the alcoves above them, spiralling upwards into the sky. People parted to allow someone through, Abby was too short to see, but as that someone made their way towards the centre of the gathering, she could see that it was not one, but a group of Na'vi: four young warriors, carrying a fifth between them. When they reached the open space of the centre, they lay him down gently, as if he could stilll feel pain. The wailing rose higher still, small cries and shouts bursting through the monotonous noise at intervals. Many eyes turned towards her, disbelief and anger shining in them.

There, on the young warrior's chest, Abby could see a series of black holes leaking blood, running neatly from just below his left shoulder to the top of his stomach on the right: bullet wounds.

"**We were watching the cold beasts… he stepped too close…**" One of the four warriors said, his voice shaking with shock.

"**No… no… no…**" Abby whispered, her voice painfully loud in the silence that had followed the young man's words.

Eytucun turned to her, his eyes wide with pain, his expression unreadable. He said one word to her, no more:

"**Leave**."

She stumbled from the cavern, her eyesight blurred by her tears; Neytiri was right behind her, reaching out for her hand but Abby shook it off.

"**No, leave me… I…**"

"**It is not safe**." Neytiri's voice was small.

Abby looked to the large opening between the roots of the tree, the familiar large figure was walking towards them, slowly, measuring every step.

She expected Ta'laht to grin triumphantly, to gloat, to brag, but he was silent, his expression solemn. He simply walked past her, towards the forest, and stopped at the edge of the clearing and looked back at her expectantly.

"**I will be alright. I need the quiet**." With this she turned from her friend, and walked towards Ta'laht, who once again disappeared into the branches as she approached.

She cried most of the way back to the compound; she took it as a sign of her innumerable flaws that nothing attacked her, not even the Nantangs wanted her.

As she reached the edge of the forest, the diggers and cutters now silent and abandoned for the night, Ta'laht dropped to the ground beside her once more.

"**Don't come back. They tolerated you because you were amusing, because they thought your people were no threat to them. If you thought that you were part of the Omaticaya in some way, then you are foolish. We are all one, but you must always stand alone, you cannot hear any voices other than your own in your mind. I was not cruel to call you a pet; it's what you were. Why did you come to betray your own kind tonight?**" His tone was neither angry nor smug, it was patient and even; he was, for once, not trying to hurt her with his words, he only spoke the truth, and only hurt her more.

"**I release you from your oath**." She reached upwards for his head, and he obliged her by lowering it. She started the last part of her journey home, taking a few steps on the barren earth around the compound.

"**If I meet you in battle, I shall fight with honour, and so shall you**."

She turned around to look at him, but he had already disappeared back into the trees.

It was the nicest thing he'd ever said to her.

**A/N: Reviews are my only reward for writing this… apart from writing this… so if you were at all entertained, please review.**


	6. Back Again

**A/N: Ok, so the last chapter came as a bit of a surprise to me. I suppose that is what happens when you don't plan out a story. I hope you'll forgive me if I continue to not plan this, it's an interesting experiment… sort of stream of consciousness, and I find it oddly liberating. I know things have turned a little dark, and since the place I left off last time, was sort of the bottom of a pit, the getting out part won't be all sunshine and daisies… I hope that's OK. So, in other words, this one's dark too, but light is in sight.**

**To clarify a common question: Abby is now 16.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar or any of its characters, my OCs are my own.**

The all out war that some had feared, others had hoped for, did not materialise. There were skirmishes, small-scale attacks, but it seemed as if the Na'vi were still reluctant to believe that their home was under threat. Abby knew that some of the concepts so natural to the human mind, were completely alien to the Na'vi's. Eywa's bounty was just that, hers, not theirs to take, give, or lose. The forest was part of a larger network, not something that belonged to them, it was their equal, it lived in symbiosis with them. The idea of somebody trying to steal it for them, was not even comprehensible, was nonsensical.

In equal measure, the human's attempts to re-establish peace, to negotiate land-rights, were as ill informed as they were dishonest. Hamstead told them what he thought they wanted to hear, using words such as 'ownership', 'division', and 'preservation', effectively making himself unintelligible.

Grace, of course, was trying to rectify some of his bigger mistakes, but her tentative grasp on the Na'vi's mindset occasionally made things worse rather than better. Her school had now been closed for over six months, and her desire to return to a more harmonious relationship with the Na'vi was beginning to border on desperation.

Abby in the meantime was playing hide and seek with her own thoughts. She assisted some of Grace's researchers with cataloguing and preserving plant samples, she trained with a determination that almost scared Quaritch, and that was saying something, she even went so far as to volunteer to help with her father's work, staying out of his way while helping his assistant with the menial tasks of prepping slides, scanning samples, and organising them in the genetic database. Somehow her father's glances, the ones that reminded her of a child staring at a toy that had been unfairly placed just beyond his reach, were infinitely more bearable than being left alone to think, to remember.

… _you are alone in your own mind._

But Mana'ey was wrong. Her vulnerability, her fear of her father, the small girl's memories of pain, warped into adolescent hate, her guilt and her shame, were like ghosts living in her head, whispering to her.

_Don't come back. They tolerated you because you were amusing, because they thought your people were no threat to them._

But she had known. Had read about and seen the sort of things her people were capable of. Had never doubted their reason for being here. She even knew about the things they'd done to their own planet; no plants other than those housed in giant man-made constructions, their purpose merely to feed, not to live; no animals in the wild, only the shadows of them, bred and caged, existing only to be food: A planet without a soul, to be done with as the humans pleased. She'd known all of this, even when she was much younger, and yet she had never told them. She had deceived not only them, but herself as well, believing that if she wished for it hard enough, then it would not be real.

_If you thought that you were part of the Omaticaya in some way, then you are foolish._

No, she had never thought that, had always known, had always felt, just how different she was. Perhaps part of her self-delusion was her way of escaping human nature. Perhaps she thought that if she told them what the others were, she would reveal herself. Perhaps…

_I was not cruel to call you a pet; it's what you were. _

She'd known this, too, had been willing to accept small graces; pathetic, desperate, and irrevocably lost as she was.

_Why did you come to betray your own kind tonight?_

This, perhaps, was the most important question of them all… and it was the one she could not face, the one she was running from.

---

Eventually an uneasy truce was reached, the expansion was 'halted', a ruse, since it had already reached its new perimeters, and Grace's school was opened again. But things were very different. The Na'vi no longer sent their children, only their young adults, all of them full warriors, who made no secret of the fact that they were only there to gain a better insight into a questionable enemy.

The military presence on the human side had been doubled, with some of Quaritch's men standing guard around the school's perimeters, as if they were expecting an attack.

Neytiri had embraced Abby, tears in her eyes and a shy smile on her face, but the others had hung back, weary and unsure of how to behave. Abby herself was not entirely certain how to act, she was still running in her mind, and her confusion and guilt made her uncharacteristically reserved and quiet.

She did not blame Ni'ran and Tsu'tey for staying away; the occasional apologetic glances told her that this was not entirely of their own choosing, and that Neytiri's defiance was somehow more than they were capable of.

Ta'laht ignored her altogether, pretending that she simply did not exist. In some perverse way, this bothered Abby more than his blatant dislike of her ever had.

She would try to provoke him intentionally, try to make him acknowledge her in some way, but he persevered, never letting his temper get the better of him, never giving her the satisfaction of even just growling at her.

At one point, she succeeded in having him shove her out of his way, apparently even he could not walk through a solid human girl. Encouraged by this, Abby followed him out of the classroom, taunting him with some of the worst insults she could think of, but to no avail, until she hit upon what seemed to be a sore spot:

"**It must be such a disappointment… the great warrior Ta'laht, ready for battle, and the elders decide on peace**." She'd been running after him like a terrier snapping at his heals, and he was almost at the school's border, Roger, one of the guards, only a few feet from him, when he turned an threw her the most scathing look.

_Oh sweet victory!_

He caught himself almost immediately, scowled and turned, practically running past Roger who stepped out of his way.

"Oh no you don't." Abby made to follow, but the marine stepped into her path with an expression of finality on his face. She feigned a right turn, ducked left as he made to grab her and slipped past him, hearing him curse and call a commanding "Abby!".

Ignoring his protest, and picking up speed, she called behind her:

"You'll have to shoot me." They both knew that he wouldn't, they also knew that he had no hope of catching her.

She reached the small clearing where Ta'laht had ambushed Neytiri and her a few years ago, and felt certain that he was here.

"**You think that ignoring me will make me go away? It doesn't work that way, trust me, I know**."

He made no sound as his feet hit the forest floor a mere two feet away from her, he sank into a low crouch so that his eyes were level with hers. He was looking at her now, but did not say a word.

"**I'm sorry**." It left her mouth before she even knew what she was saying, it was only a whisper, but it made him look as surprised as she felt.

"**I knew what they were, and I didn't tell you**." She wasn't so much speaking to him, as to all the Na'vi, picturing her friends' faces as she continued:

"**They are not like you… they don't understand, they are as blind as hatchling banshees…**" She shook her head at this, not sure where her words were coming from.

"**And I've been running away from the questions you've asked me, because they scare me, because I don't know how to answer them**." She was looking straight at him now, he was still silent, but the resentment in his eyes had given way to confusion.

"**You said that I'm not one of the Omaticaya, and I know that, but I'm not one of them either… they've made me into something… I… I don't know what I am… maybe I'm nothing.**" She could feel her face turn warm, her eyes began to sting, and she knew she was crying.

"**But I know that I'm not blind like them. I can feel life around me, like a pulse, like it's pressing against this bubble that surrounds me and I have no way of letting it in… but it's there, and…**" She'd begun to sob now, but she balled her hands into fists and willed herself to continue.

"**They come from a dead world… I've never been there, but I've read about it, I've seen pictures… you cannot possibly imagine…" **She took a deep breath.

"**They won't stop… all they know is want… they won't ever stop, Ta'laht…** " She finally succumbed to the hic-uppy sobs, her shoulders no longer under her control as they moved on their own, shame and despair making her bend forward and curl into a hunched over ball. She'd told him the truth, she'd allowed her thoughts to catch her, and this was it; no wonder she'd been running for so long.

"**You think I want war? You think that because I am brash and thoughtless, that I want my people to go up against the cold beasts to be torn to pieces? I can be foolish, but I'm not a fool. But more will come… and you only confirmed what my father has always known… if we do not defeat them soon, there will be too many and…**" His voice was even, he didn't sound angry, but she could tell he was worried.

"**I want peace… but they do not**."

Abby simply nodded, then whispered again:

"**I'm sorry**."

"**They did not bring you here?**" He sounded almost formal now.

Abby shook her head.

"**I was born a year after my parents arrived on Pandora.**" She was studying her feet, not able to look him in the eye.

"**Then you are Eywa's, and she must have plans for you, the way she has plans for all of her own.**" At this she did look up at him.

"**I told you, I don't know what I am… I…**" Her tone was pleading, as if she thought he'd allow her not to finish the sentence. "**I'm part of them too,… no matter what I do, I'll always be a traitor in one way or another.**"

He shook his head at this, then tilted it to the side and studied her more intently.

"**I don't know what I am… it's not for me to know… but I know who I am, maybe that's the best we can do.**" Then he did the strangest thing; he placed his hand on top of Abby's head, leaving it there for a moment, then he was gone. She could hear his voice from somewhere above her:

"**You should go back, now… no point in uselessly upsetting their warriors.**"

She could hear the rustle of leaves, the swish of a tail, and the next moment the pulsing pressure that had been his presence was gone.

---

She struggled with the decision for weeks, revulsion and fear making her weak. She debated whether this truly had anything to do with who she was, if it was really a way of answering some of her questions, or merely a way of forcing them out. In the end, she decided that it was a test of courage, a way of confronting her daemons, of confronting the ghosts in her head.

She found him hunched over a microscope, muttering to himself as usual. He was alone, after all, it was well past midnight. She cleared her throat to catch his attention, and he looked up at her. There was something vacant about the way his eyes seemed to struggle to fully focus, something oddly disconnected in the absent smile on his lips.

"Finish it." She told him; and the smile her father gave her at this, was anything but vague. An almost manic glee shone from his eyes; she'd returned his toy. Her stomach tightened and she felt like she would be sick, but her fists were clenched, her mind was made up, she would take what haunted her and use it.

**A/N: Reviews are my only reward.**


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